Thieves in the Night
by flamewarflipsides
Summary: Sounds like someone's about to rob old man Morocco's house. Can he foil the invaders and make it out alive, or are they the ones who need to be scared? A Shattered Glass-style AU story. Second place winner in deviantART's Topsy Turvy Fanfiction Contest.


He found himself staring at his ceiling instead of Blossom Vale.

It wasn't like him to snap out of a good dream, so he lay there, still, listening. Sure enough, he heard a telltale clank, a shuffle, downstairs. Thieves in the night.

He continued to lay there, stomach seizing, muscles tensing against his will. Someone had broken into his home. Who knew what the intruder or intruders might want? Artwork? Electronics? Valuables? Perhaps they wanted him. Maybe they meant to steal away his life, his propensity for getting in the way of generations of evil men.

That idea incensed him. He shuddered to think that his ancient enemy's descendents might finally snuff out over a century of progress. Worse still, he had yet to vet Evan and Myles as his successors, yet to create them Griffin Rock's new eternal protectors. He couldn't die yet; not tonight.

He sat up, slowly, carefully, eager to keep the springs in his bed from creaking. He cursed his sentimentality. His little reminders of his past, his fondness for metal spring mattresses and skeleton keys, would prove his doom. Perhaps if had "gotten with the times," as they said, perhaps this wouldn't have happened.

Somehow, he emerged from his bed without a sound and tiptoed into the master bath. His socks slipped smoothly across the powder-blue tile. He reached into the so-called shower and pushed the cold water dial one step backward, praying the self-destruct mechanism on the regeneration machine would work before the intruders sought to destroy any evidence.

As he slipped back into the bedroom, a feeling of dread crept over him. He tried not to think of the day he had stolen the device he had just set to self-destruct. It seemed funny, even apropos, that very dynasty of evil men from whom he had stolen it had come to take it back. The eldest son of the family had proven quite clever. He might even have figured out who Thaddeus Morocco really was.

Holding one hand up near his face, as if to parry an incoming blow, Thad tried the bedroom door. It opened silently, letting the sounds of the rampage downstairs reach him.

"It's too bad we can't get the bots in here. Their instruments could pick up any tech we've missed," the female voice intoned.

"This old fogey doesn't have any tech," came a higher voice. "He's just an old artist."

"If he were just anything we wouldn't be here," she snapped back.

He knew those voices; they made him shudder with regret for his stray thought. If one of the Burns children were dubious about his possession of any rogue technology, that left only one reason they might have come.

He looked back to his bed, contemplating crawling under it. Could he hide there? Would that fool them? No, of course not. His car sat in the driveway. He knew of only one fool among the Burnses, but he'd heard two downstairs. He needed to escape.

As his eyes darted to the window, though, he heard a deep voice that made his heart sink.

"I don't think so, Morocco."

"Cade, isn't it?" He turned to the sound. Sure enough, the brutish-looking young man was crouched there behind the bedroom door, waiting, pointing a small firearm.

"It's ok that you recognized us. The only way you get out of here alive is if you give us whatever it is you're using to stay young."

Thad rolled his eyes. "Do you really think that will help you? The good people of this town defeated your father's plan to sell Blossom Vale to the Greene Corporation. They will realize something is amiss when the new dynasty of Burns are all gingers."

"I know a little bit about the genetics of hair color, Thad," Cade sneered. "I know who I have to marry to make sure all my kids have red hair. Did you know Haley's got red hair in her family? She's a sweet girl. So loyal."

"It will be a shame when she has an accident, then," Thad sighed. "Just like I'm about to."

"Yes. Just like you're about to. Any preferences, Doc? I think I can make it quick... especially since my dad won't rule it a homicide."

Thad shook his head. "Actually, I would prefer it to take as long as you are able." He grinned, wicked. "My dear friend Madeline and her darling daughter have been watching my house for weeks now. Priscilla noticed your rude little police car in the neighborhood."

"Oh bummer. It'd be a shame for them to have an accident, too."

"Yes, it would, especially since Madeline's associates at MECH are en route." Thaddeus Morocco laughed. "Dear boy, do you think that you are the only family who has made friends? MECH dabbles in 'robots,' too."

That was when the color drained from Cade's face in the moonlight. "No way... you didn't..."

"Your team are the rejects, aren't they? Certainly not able to stand up to a full force of freedom fighters. Of course, my friends don't need to emerge victorious. They must merely ensure that everyone on this street sees your ugly Burns face."

"This isn't over, Morocco." Cade retreated down the stairs, backwards. "We'll get you another w-"

Then the boy's warning turned into a scream, and he plummeted backwards, tumbling, until the screams abruptly stopped. Thad stepped to the edge of the stairs and glanced down at the still shape below. With a deep sigh, he called down the stairs.

"Danielle, Kody, do grab your brother and come up here. I have just the thing to save his life." Then he looked down, tears welling in his eyes. "As for mine... it's been long enough."


End file.
